


8 Days

by wannabe_someone



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Aromantic Holster, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Jewish Jack Zimmermann, M/M, Multi, bad bob is awesone, bitty idolizes alicia fight me, families suck, gretuetous old guard references, i cant spell, its a hanukkah fic y'all, so bitty has given up, tags will be added bc spoilers but honestly this is kinda plotless, thank fuck for spell check, this is honestly a lot of fluff, welcome to my studies in what type of children each character mentors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:22:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27998208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannabe_someone/pseuds/wannabe_someone
Summary: Hanukkah at the Bittle-Zimmermans“All I care about is that I’m here with you. You don’t always need to have a fresh pie on the counter when I get home. I put it in my vows for a reason. Everything extra that you do is just icing on the cake.”
Relationships: Adam "Holster" Birkholtz & Justin "Ransom" Oluransi, Alicia Zimmermann/Bob Zimmermann, Chris "Chowder" Chow/Caitlin Farmer, Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter, Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann, Larissa "Lardo" Duan/Shitty Knight, Shitty Knight & Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 18
Kudos: 85





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd   
> im going to post a chapter a day for hanukkah, if i don't pls peer pressure me into doing so but its also fine the first 5 chapters written

Jack wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he returned home from his most recent roadie, but the smell of smoke? Definitely unexpected.

He walked through the door, dragging his bags behind him. Even from the entryway, he heard the piercing screech of a smoke alarm, along with what sounded like muffled cursing. After so many years away from the Haus, he didn’t expect this instinct to kick in.

In a second, he dropped his bag, kicking the door to the closet in and pulling the fire extinguisher out. He barely registered that he’d grabbed anything else until he was running through the hallway, coats flying off of him, brandishing the bright red cylinder like a sword.

Jack didn’t stop running until he was well into the kitchen, grabbing the pillar over the bar as he tried to calm down. Bitty was safe. That was all that mattered.

As he stood there, Bitty carefully dropped a lump of steaming, dripping charcoal into the trash, not bothering to remove the pie tin sticking to the bottom. The blond man replaced the potholders, hanging them on a small hook over the stove, then took a deep breath.

Bitty turned around, then almost leaped back at the sight of Jack, holding on to the bar for dear life. “Hi, honey!”

Jack knew that something was wrong the minute that Bitty turned around. The bags under his eyes rivaled the ones from when he was planning his wedding. He was slumping, a far cry from his normal, nearly perfect, posture. And he had hesitated just a second too long before he said hi to Jack.

Both of them needed this break. Badly.

“Hi, Bits.”

Jack smiled as the blond carefully grabbed him around the waist, staring up at him. They just stood there, wrapped in each others arms for a few seconds. Happy to just be in the same space after being apart for so long.

Bitty rubbed at the back of his head. He’d gotten a haircut recently, and more than just doing it as a nervous habit, he really enjoyed the feeling of the shaved sides on his hand. “Sorry, honey. I just dozed off. I know this must-”

“All I care about is that I’m here with you. You don’t always need to have a fresh pie on the counter when I get home. I put it in my vows for a reason. Everything extra that you do is just icing on the cake.”

Bitty nodded, yawning. “You sure you don’t want me to stay up with you?”

“I’m not the person who was in Oregon eighteen hours ago.” Jack smiled. “Go to sleep, Bits. I’ll be there in a few seconds.”

Bitty left the room. Jack briefly thought about grabbing his bags, but decided that could be a problem for the morning. Right now he had more important things to do.

From a bookshelf, he grabbed his menorah, a box of candles, and a kippah. Just out of curiosity, he flipped the kippah over, looking at the lettering on the inside. In bright gold, it proclaimed, Wedding of Justin ‘Ransom’ Oluransi and Adam ‘Holster’ Birkholtz. 

Jack let himself get lost in the memories of that day for a few seconds before he moved on, grabbing a small tray lined with aluminum foil and a lighter. He pulled out two candles, using the lighter to melt the bottom of one before putting it in the far left side of the menorah.

He quickly says the blessings as he lights the candles, then grabbing a random biography off the shelf. He wasn’t about to let his place almost burn down for a second time because someone fell asleep.


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Bob and Alicia Zimmermann arrived at their son’s house, they were surprised at the lack of pie. Which they really should have expected, since when Bitty greeted them, he was still wearing one of his husband’s old Samwell shirts.
> 
> “Hi Alicia. Bob. Come on in!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have started writing chapter 6 and am like halfway thru which is nice bc now that im posting i feel like i have an obligation ahhhh

When Bob and Alicia Zimmermann arrived at their son’s house, they were surprised at the lack of pie. Which they really should have expected, since when Bitty greeted them, he was still wearing one of his husband’s old Samwell shirts.

“Hi Alicia. Bob. Come on in!”

Alicia could tell that Bob was doing a little victory dance on the inside, glad that he had finally broken down Bitty’s manners enough to be on a first name basis. Alicia had to smile. As bad as it was to call Bad Bob Zimmermann by his first name, it had taken a year of Facetime and texting and @-ing Bitty on twitter to get him to call her Alicia.

Apparently, he had been a giant fan of her work as a teenager, almost as much as Beyonce. She had carefully filed that information away, waiting until the moment that it would be appropriate to chirp Bitty.

They ambled in, making sure to stay quiet, as Jack was still sleeping. Bob was the first person to notice the melted wax on the menorah and the Alan Turing biography sitting next to it, but said nothing, just moving on and dropping his bags in the guest room.

By the time the two of them had returned, there was a quiet sizzling coming from the kitchen as Bitty worked on an omelet. “Sorry, y’all. I just woke up, I didn’t realize you’d be here this early. If I’d have known, I would’ve been ready!”

Alicia frowned. She still hadn’t figured out where the manners ended and the insecurities began, but at some point, Bitty had to realize that he didn’t have to do this much to get people to like him, especially his family.

Jack walked out of the bedroom, dressed but still yawning. “Morning, Bits.”

He walked over to the coffee maker, pouring out a cup, before going over to the stove to give Bitty a quick kiss. “Hi Maman. Papa.”

His eyes widened as he realized that his parents were there. “Oh!” He laughed. “When did you get here?”

Bob opened his arms as Jack walked towards him, giving his son a quick, slightly awkward hug. “Just now.”

Alicia walked over, placing a hand on her son’s forearm. “It’s nice to see you, Jack.”

His face softened. “Nice to see you too, Maman. I assume Bitty’s already offered you breakfast?”

From the stove, Bitty called out an answer, sounding offended. “Of course I did, Mr. Bittle! Who do you think I am?”

Alicia raised an eyebrow at her son as Bob laughed. “I wondered when you were going to do that.”

Jack blushed, ducking his head.

“Don’t worry. You know I did the same thing.”

A strangled cry came from the kitchen. “Your name isn’t Alicia Zimmermann?” Bitty turned around, carrying two plates, both loaded with an omelet and a few pieces of toast.

Alicia shrugged. “Legally, it is. Professionally, I’m Alicia Johnson. It was easier to just keep using the same name.”

After Jack and Bitty ate breakfast, the morning was very relaxed. Nobody had any responsibilities, and both Jack and Bitty had just gotten back home after a lot of travel. Eventually, Bitty made lunch, and Bob decided that now was the right time to strike.

“So, Bitty,” he said, trying and failing to sound casual, “you have jam and a fryer right?”

Bitty looked up from his phone. “Obviously.”

Bitty studied him for a few seconds, trying to figure out what Bob was asking, then looked behind him, lowering his voice. “Honey, Jack told me about the tradition you have. They’re called sufganiyot, right?”

Bob had to stifle a laugh at Bitty’s face as he tried to remember the pronunciation of sufganiyot. Bitty sighed, recognizing the face from when he was studying french with Jack. He waved a hand. “They’re just filled doughnuts. I can whip up a batch for tonight.”

Bob fidgeted. “The thing is… it’s a family recipe. It wouldn’t be the same if I didn’t use it.”

Bitty smiled, understanding that sometimes, things were tradition for a reason. “If you grab the recipe, we can make it together. Is there a specific kind of jam that’s used?”

The blond was incredibly excited at the prospect of a different kind of recipe, especially since it involved jam. 

Bob went into the guest room, grabbing a few pieces of paper and several ingredients before spreading it out on the bar. “It’s all here.”

“Excellent. Let’s get to work!”

The rest of the afternoon was spent frying, filling, and dusting, as well as strategically popping in and out of the kitchen to disguise what they were doing. Bitty was especially impressed with Bob’s filling abilities.

Bob was an excellent cook in general, and especially good with old family recipes. And somehow they managed to keep the fruits of their labor hidden until the afternoon, Bitty guarding the fresh doughnuts with his life, allowing only one fresh doughnut per person.

Unfortunately, before any doughnuts could be eaten, there was one large hurdle for Bitty to get over - doing the blessings for Hanukkah. It wasn’t like Bitty hadn’t been to services, in fact, he had done his homework so that he could sign the ketubah, which was now hanging up in Jack’s office. He knew about everything required.

However, Bitty was utter shit at languages.

Even Bob’s horrible singing couldn’t disguise the southern twang on all of the words, and everyone heard it when Bitty tried and failed to pronounce anything with a ch sound.

But when it was over, all Bob did was give him a giant hug, and told him that he was now part of the family.

Bitty had taken his kippah off and was twisting it in his hands before Jack gently took it from him. “I- I thought I did horrible.”

Bob and Jack shared a look and Alicia just laughed. “Everyone is always horrible. And the resident goy always gets the worst of it. It’s just bad luck.” She looked over her shoulder at her husband as Jack’s face turned from happy to resigned.

“Papa,” he muttered, “You don’t have to tell the story.”

“Oh, but I do! It’s tradition.”

Jack glanced over at Bitty, passing him a plate with several sufganiyot on it. “You’re going to want to sit down, bud. This story always takes forever.”

The four of them all sat and ate sufganiyot as Bob talked about Alicia’s first seder, when, no matter what happened, she always got the readings with the horribly confusing Hebrew names.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the non jew really does always get the horrible names at seder. doesn't matter what happens. it is almost kinda a rite of passage, but not really  
> this even happened with a family friend and his partner and he was dating a rabbi (they're still together)


	3. Day 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayy i have up to chapter 6 written

Jack slowly walked towards the door of the bedroom, afraid of what was going to happen the minute he disturbed his husband.

“Hey, Bitty. I got you the coffee you like.”

The door opened and a hand shot out, grabbing the coffee. Even from the outside, Jack could hear the conversation, Bitty’s accent getting thicker and thicker as he fought to stay calm. He loitered outside the door, unsure of what to do.

Bitty waited until he could no longer hear his husband to put Aunt Trisha back on speaker, sipping his PSL. It was no longer that season, but he’d reached an understanding with the baristas at the cafe down the street about a year ago. They provided him with his PSL’s year round, and they got personal instruction on how to improve their baked goods.

It was no surprise that the cafe was booming at all hours. Thinking of the selection of pastries they now had, Bitty smiled.

Sadly, his mood was quickly ruined by the sound of his aunt’s voice. Even through the phone, it sounded grating, too upbeat and cheerful to make anyone feel at ease.

It perfectly matched her personality.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t come to Madison for Christmas. Everyone’s going to be missing your baking!”

In the privacy of his own bedroom, Bitty rolled his eyes. He almost took another sip of his PSL, but set it aside. Right now, what he really wanted was a cup of coffee. Or even just straight espresso. Aunt Trisha’s simpering could turn even that into a brew as sugary as his one true love.

He took a deep breath, making sure that he could cover his words with enough of his trademark charm to not offend her. “I already told you why I’m not coming. I just got back from my book tour and Jack was just on a roadie. We don’t want to do anything too fancy this year.” 

He let a slight bit of irritation seep into his voice. “And as far as the baking, Mama’s just as good as I am.”

“I know, but…”

Bitty wanted to travel through the connection and slap her stupid fake pout right off Aunt Trisha’s face.

“There’s only one celebrity chef in the family. I’m sure everyone would love to see you.”

Bitty knew exactly why everyone would love to see him. Once again, he was glad that this side of the family was distant enough that they only bothered him once a year. “I’ve got to go, Aunt Trisha. Tell Georgie that I say hi.”

Bitty hung up, not waiting for the long, drawn out goodbye to end. He threw the phone on the bed, watching it bounce several times before it finally stopped. Grabbing his latte, he walked out the door, running directly into Jack.

He stared up into his husband’s face, fluttering his eyelashes coyly. “Why hello, Mr. Bittle.”

Jack ducked down to kiss him. “Mr. Zimmermann.”

Bitty went to walk towards the living room, but Jack stopped him, looking concerned. “What was going on in there?”

He sighed. “Same fight I’ve been having with Aunt Trisha for a while.”

“Euh. Anything I can do to help?” As always, Jack looked unfairly cute when he was worried about his husband’s wellbeing.

Bitty poked his husband’s absurdly firm chest. “All you gotta do is just be right here for me.”

“Always.”

Jack smiled, sweeping his arm behind Bitty, gesturing for him to move forward. “After you.”

“And to think that I believed you had no manners!” Bitty remarked, teasingly. “Come on, honey. Let’s go in.”

Alicia and Bob were both sitting on the couch, Alicia leaning her legs on her husband’s chest. Both of them were carefully balancing plates of doughnuts and coffees on each other.

Alicia smiled up at her son as he entered the room. “Hi, sweetie.”

Jack’s face changed to the trademark look of a long suffering kid. “Maman.”

“You can deny it all you want, but you will forever be my child,” she said primly. “I noticed that you have a tree. Where are all the ornaments?”

“Oh, it’s tradition to wait until everyone’s here, isn’t it?”

“My family does the same thing,” She patted one of her husband’s legs. “Bobby, can you put your giant muscles to use and get the ornaments?”

Bob slowly got up, fake groaning and clutching his back. He winked at Jack. “I guess that’s my only use anymore, eh? Besides sitting around and looking pretty.”

Alicia stared back at her husband. “Why did you think I married you?” 

She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “A professional hockey player makes a very good piece of arm candy.”

“They really do, don’t they?”

Jack sighed, starting to regret ever introducing his mom to Bitty. “I’ll show you where the boxes are, Papa.”

As soon as the boxes were brought out, Bitty and Alicia sprang into action, directing everything. Alicia put Bob to work untangling the lights and told Jack to help them with the actual decoration. Bitty started to unpack all of the boxes, placing them into several different piles based on some mysterious criteria.

One pile was put very, very far away, and it was dubbed the Shitty pile, both for the quality of the ornaments, and who had gifted them, even if there were also several contributions from Ransom and Holster.

Once the piles were created, Alicia surveyed the boxes, looking at the contents. She was especially confused by the pile that was placed even farther away from the Shitty pile. “What’s that pile for?”

Bitty answered distractedly, still sorting through the final box. “That’s the horrible pile. It’s all the religious ornaments I’ve been gifted by family. Half the time they’re horribly tacky and the other half are offensive.”

Jack walked over to the pile, picking up the box on top and frowning at the contents. “Dumpster?”

“Dumpster.”

“I would ask if you could take a picture,” Alicia said, leaning over Jack’s shoulder, “but that angel is the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen in my life. And I’m including your dad’s childhood jockstraps. No offense, Bobby,” she added, hurriedly.

Bob waved a hand from where he was sitting, still detangling the lights. “None taken.”

It took hours, but eventually the tree was decorated according to Alica and Bitty’s exacting standards, and Jack took several pictures of the menorah he’d placed in front of it, wanting to commemorate the night forever.


	4. Day 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprisingly, it took three full days for Jack to realize that he needed to actually do something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i could have written more of ch 7. instead i have 500 words of horror in my google docs

Surprisingly, it took three full days for Jack to realize that he needed to actually do something. It wasn’t that he hadn’t done anything; he’d talked to his parents, he’d gone on grocery runs for Bitty and Bob, who was fighting with Bitty for control of the kitchen, and he’d read several books.

The problem was that Jack wasn’t really good at being idle. Bitty wasn’t either, but he was always moving, always talking to other people, and could always come up with another task. So when Shitty and Lardo showed up and talked about going to this tiny public rink they found, all 4 people currently in Jack’s house piled into cars with their skates.

By the time they figured out where Shitty and Lardo had gone, the pair had been waiting for a while. Lardo was bouncing up and down, blowing on her hands. For someone who’d managed a hockey team for years, she was a horrible skater and still held a deep seated hatred for cold.

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” she grumpedd.

Shitty threw his hands in the air. “Because we need to show some unsuspecting randos the amazingness of Jackabelle and my magnificent fucking bro, Bitty!”

Jack and Bitty exchanged a significant look as Alicia Zimmermann came into view, bickering with her husband about the merits of skating.

“Alicia fucking Zimmermann!” Shitty broke into a run, ready to hug her to death. Shitty, Alicia, and Lardo got on like a house on fire. Every time the three of them got together, Bitty and Jack spent the entire time wondering if that was the day the world would change for the better, or if they would have to bail them out of jail for public intoxication and vandalism.

Lardo walked up to Bitty and Jack. “Hey, dudes. What’s up?”

Jack pointed at the scene behind them. “Parents came down for Hanukkah.”

“I’m also fighting with my family about why I didn’t join them. How about you?”

Lardo nodded. “Meh. Just life. Managed to sell another painting with not so subtle boobs to another entitled douchebag, so that’s worth it. Although he did try to ask for a family discount, which is weird, since the Knights’ don’t think I’m part of the family.”

Jack finally turned towards the tiny public rink, tucked away in a tiny grove. A few people were there skating, but not many. “Wish I’d brought my camera.”

“It would make a really good landscape.”

While Jack was talking to Lardo, Shitty had challenged Bad Bob and Bitty to a race, so they were now waving from the tiny skate rental stand.

Jack smirked at Lardo. “Race you?”

“Dude. You’re a fucking pro athlete.” She snorted. “Piggyback ride. Just like at your first kegster.”

“Always.”

Pretty quickly, the entire group fell into their normal patterns, with everyone but Lardo and Alicia putting on skates. The minute they got on the ice, Lardo started chirping all of them, falling into her old habits as team manager. It took only seconds for Alica to join in.

Bitty had taken his figure skates and was now surveying the ice. Jack finished his lap, stopping so that he sprayed ice right in front of a staring kid. Their parents watched, as if trying to place him.

“The middle is pretty clear,” Bitty stared up at him, smiling. “Want to do this, honey?”

“I’m still afraid I’m going to drop you.”

“You’ll do no such thing, Mr. Bittle. I trust you.”

After doing a lift in front of a handful of staring onlookers, Bitty moved on to doing some simple spins and jumps. Nothing too fancy, just some well executed singles and doubles.

Jack was standing by the boards, seeing a few kids flocking towards Bitty, who’d started to pick some of the older ones up and spin them around. A few feet in front of him, he saw the small kid from before staring. He smiled, and the kid came closer.

“Can you show me how to do that stop?”

Jack looked back down, reassessing their age. They were small, sure, but he started to think that they were around 8 or 9, older that he expected. Maybe once he retired, he really should coach peewee. He’d always liked those kids.

“Sure.” He got down on the ice so he was at their level. “What’s your name? And, euh, your pronouns?”

“Tyler. She/her.”

Jack saw Tyler’s parents looking at them now, and he waved, trying to show that he was trustworthy.

He started to show Tyler a basic stop, and before long, a few other kids had come over, all around Tyler’s age, as more families started to show up.

By the time families had started to leave, Bob, Jack, Bitty, and Mr. Crappy, as he’d been dubbed, had spent most of their time hauling kids around, with Bitty picking up the smaller ones and spinning, and Jack, Shitty, and Bob giving them piggy back rides. A lot of the kids had been fascinated by what all four of them could do, and they’d all ended up teaching them a few moves, mostly basic stops.

Jack was pretty sure a few kids would be begging their parents for skating lessons after this afternoon.

By the time they were ready to go, all four of them were incredibly sore and insanely happy. Shitty was ecstatic, amazed and impressed by the number of kids who had introduced themselves with their pronouns out of habit. Lardo was chirping him about being called Mr. Crappy, then one upped him by talking about the promise she’d gotten from Alicia. There was now a large list of people that Alicia would talk about Lardo’s work with, hopefully getting a large number of paintings with not so subtle boobs into douchebags homes. She was debating putting dicks on the male homophobes paintings.

At some point, they all made it to a small restaurant, Alicia and Bob paying for a large selection of soups and sandwiches. Jack watched as everyone talked, then saw Bitty staring at a family next to them, looking at the kid in a high chair. He leaned in closer. 

“Maybe someday, eh?”


	5. Day 5

plotting shit

Lardo: whats up fuckers

Yall know whats going down tonight

Chowder: I CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU

Chowder: AND FARMERS REALLY EXCITED

Nursey: ik its been forever

Dex: you’re driving. get the fuck off your phone.

Bitty: any dress code

Lardo: dude its fucking smh 

No matter whart u wont be worse dressed than Jack

Bitty: u made it worse by bedazzling the shoes

They were already neon yellow

Shitty: everything should be neon yellow and bedazzled

I stg i will put it in the fucking bylaws

Holster: it would make my liz lemon pillow really uncomfy :(

Ransom: bro im ur pillow

Holster: its on the couch

Ransom: 0:

Lardo: what the fuck is that

Shitty: its a fineable offense

Ransom: … tater does it like that

Nursey: foooineeee

Dex: you’re. Driving!

Nursery: stfu

U and chowder fined me when we got together

Im still paying back fines

Dex: Texting while driving is also a fineable offense

Bitty: I’ll be there at 6.

“Euh. Where are we going?”

The car jerked forward the second the light turned green, Bitty’s eyes planted firmly on the road. He drove insanely fast, often getting to where he wanted in record times. Unfortunately for many passengers, the way he drove was downright terrifying.

Bitty responded distractedly, trying to stay ahead of the person behind him. “It doesn’t matter, sweetheart. You’ll like it!”

Jack looked behind him for cops. He did not want to get pulled over on the way to his mystery destination. 

Soon they got off the busiest roads, heading down a residential street lined with small houses. Jack finally made the connection. “Bits, I thought we weren’t going to do anything big?”

“Don’t worry. We aren’t.” Bitty turned sharply, Jack grabbing the door handle and bracing for impact. He stood up on shaky legs as he observed the door in front of him, an unlit menorah and a tree visible in the window. Jack didn’t know how Shitty had gotten the money to buy the house, but he didn’t really want to ask either. Some of Shitty’s rants were interesting, but others devolved to yelling a lot more quickly.

Holster was the first person to open the door, wearing the ugliest Hanukkah sweater that Jack had ever seen. Bitty audibly gulped at the sight of a light up menorah and the giant glittery letters proclaiming  _ That’s Lit! _

Holster saw Bitty staring. “Nice, huh? Got it last year, from my sister. Didn’t know why she didn’t like it, it’s literally the best thing ever.”

“Sure, honey,” Bitty patted Holster’s upper arm. “Where should I put this pie?”

He waved the fragrant treat around, wrapped in foil to keep it warm. “Just on the counter. Don’t worry, Rans has made sure there’s more than just Sriracha in the cabinets.”

From the other room, Ransom called out .“We’re not frat boys any longer and nutrition is important!”

Jack stared at Holster’s shirt for a few more seconds. “So, med school is going well?”

“Chyeah. Taking a few years off was the right idea. Now he knows he actually wants to be a doctor and he’s only gone coral reef once.”

Jack took off his coat, folding it over his arm, and followed Holster into the living room. Everyone was there. Shitty and Lardo were lounging on one couch, Ransom had taken over another, and Dex was sitting on a chair, Nursery on the floor in front of him, laying his head on his lap.

Most surprisingly was the person standing right in front of the tree, taking a selfie. “Chowder?”

“Hi!”

The other man ran over, wearing his customary Sharks hat. Jack smiled. “I thought you would still be in San Diego?”

“Yeah, me too! But I had long enough between games that I could come down here, and Cait has family in Boston.”

If Bitty was the entire team’s dad, Jack had ended up with a special bond with Chowder and Chowder alone. He was an amazing goalie and an even better teammate. In his senior year, when people started to throw around words like free agency, the first person he’d called was Jack. And when he signed with the Sharks, Jack had called him minutes later to say congratulations. 

Chowder winked at Jack. “I can’t wait for next week!”

Jack laughed. “Sucks not being in the same conference, eh?”

“Yeah.” Chowder lowered his voice, as if making sure that nobody was listening. “Most of the people in our conference are really, really bad.”

Bitty swooped in with plates of pie, balancing them perfectly. He handed pieces to both Chowder and Jack, staring at it as though he could make the slices bigger through force of will alone. “I’ll leave y’all alone. I talk to the frogs more than you do.”

“Thanks, Bitty!” Chowder took a bite, chewing slowly and closing his eyes. “I can’t imagine living with Bitty again! Especially with the diet plan.”

Jack took his own bite, savoring the flavor. Bitty hadn’t been around recently, so it was nice to have a fresh pie, something that he usually saved for cheat days.

Jack talked to Chowder and Cait for a while, then ended up talking to all of the Frogs, which unfortunately led to having to fill Caitlyn in on the Roaches v Person debate. Since becoming homeowners, most of their opinions had changed, and it ended up dividing Dex and Nursey, with Nursey being team Person.

Their fight only ended after karaoke, where Dex sang an over the top love song, then retreated to the couch. Nursey promptly tripped and landed on him, leading to a round of chirps. It turned out that Nursey got flustered any time he was around Dex.

Jack seriously wondered how they managed to keep their crushes secret for four entire years.

Sadly, all parties had to end, but it was still amazing to see his old teammates. And Bitty was so tired on the way home that he didn’t speed at all.


	6. Day 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Latkes!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are 2 days left and latkes are a lot of work yall

“What are you doing in my kitchen?”

Alicia jumped up, turning to look at Bitty, hands on his hips, staring at her. “I heard that Jack had invited a few people over, so I thought I’d make latkes.”

Bitty raised an eyebrow, his accent getting slightly thicker. “I thought you weren’t allowed in the kitchen anymore?”

Alicia smiled. “I’m good at frying. And barbecue.”

“Then you might get along with Coach. He did all the barbecuing in our house. But by now, Jack’s mostly vegetarian, so I’m not doing any of that.” Bitty stared at the cabinet Alicia had been rummaging in. “Shallow fried or deep fried?”

“Latkes are done in a pan, usually with olive oil. I really just wanted to see how many you had.” She rarely made latkes anymore, and she figured that if several pro hockey players were at the house, she’d need massive quantities of all the ingredients. Even though latkes were a lot of work, Alicia enjoyed making them. There was something nice about the relative quiet of the kitchen, the one place during the Hanukkah parties that wasn’t crammed with people. It had always been her and sometimes Jack, the two of them peeling and grating in tandem.

The nostalgia must have shown on her face because Bitty’s posture changed. “Do you need me to do anything?”

Alicia had already looked in the fridge, the cabinets. As long as everyone wasn’t too hungry and she could fry fast enough… She shook her head. “I need at least another bag of potatoes, onion, more olive oil, and a truckload of sour cream and applesauce.”

“I have applesauce already made. It’s in the freezer.” Bitty wrinkled his nose, thinking about the inferior quality. It was an affront to his ability that somehow his applesauce didn’t fit Alicia’s standards.

Alicia strode towards Bitty, putting her hands on his shoulders. “This is a Jewish holiday. They didn’t kill us, so we’re going to gorge ourselves. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. You’re used to it. But think of your applesauce used on a pile of starving frat bros.”

Bitty cringed. “I’ll buy this at the store.”

The minute Bitty left, closing the door, Alicia brought out one of the bags of potatoes and started searching for a peeler. She heard a muffled conversation coming from the entryway, but she didn’t really notice anything until Jack was right behind her. “The peeler’s in the top drawer. Just to the left of the fridge.”

“Oh, thank you.” Alicia opened the drawer and grabbed the peeler, dropping it on the island so that she could hug her son. 

“Papa’s still sleeping?”

Alicia laughed. “I think he’s moved on to playing words with friends in his pajamas.”

Jack looked at the massive pile of potatoes and grabbed another peeler. After washing his hands, he joined his mother, pulling up one of the stools so that he could peel right over the trash can. Once the first batch was peeled and Bitty arrived with the bags of extra supplies, Alicia started grating, figuring out what she would need for this massive batch of latkes.

Alicia and Jack spent most of their afternoon in the kitchen, the world moving around them. As Jack stared at his hands, delicately shaping a perfect pancake, he looked out at the setting sun. “I missed this. Just - our time together. It was nice.”

Alicia smiled, placing her hand on the island, right next to Jack’s. “Maybe next year we could come down again.”

“Maybe.”

Jack went back to work, gently placing the latke in the pan of already assembled pancakes, but Alica knew that he was happy.

Only minutes later, their first guest arrived. Jack had left the kitchen when he heard George enter, and he came back with a large bottle of wine. He nodded at his mother, who immediately started to pour oil into pans and turn on all the burners. She cracked her knuckles before tying on an apron. There was work to be done, and she wasn’t going to ruin her clothes with oil.

George, Bob, Bitty, and Jack all walked into the living room, surrounding her with a wall of chatter. She listened as she fried, occasionally adding to the conversation. The doorbell rang again and the party got louder as Tater entered the room.

“Little B!”

“Hi, honey! What’s in the bag?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Just something for hosts.” He winked at Bob. “And parents.”

“Oh, thank you, Tater!”

Alicia kept frying.

The evening went by. 

Eventually, George went into the kitchen. “I can take over for a bit, if you want.”

Alicia stared at her. She’d never expected her to be the one to volunteer, but she took off her apron and handed that and the spatula to George. She grabbed a plate, loading it up with latkes, placing a dollop of apple sauce on each one.

She ended up sitting on the couch, right next to her husband, eating and drinking. George seemed content to keep making latkes, so she didn’t disturb her.

Tater was the one who did.

That wasn’t a bad thing, he just wanted to help. And as usual, he tried to help in the most enthusiastic way possible. Tater was the ultimate hockey playing himbo. Sadly, he didn’t realize that latkes were fried in oil.

Everyone started to follow Tater into the kitchen, crowding around the island, peering around the corner of a pillar.

George stood next to the pans, hands on her hips. “Tater. I’m good with frying the latkes.”

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you have to!” he cried, cheerfully. “I cook all the time, I can do this.”

“Tater, I’ve seen your kitchen.” Jack was leaning on the edge of the island, trying to get as close to the action as possible. “I don’t think rehearing things Bitty made counts as cooking.”

“At least I know how to use stove. Not like some of the rookies.”

Alicia heard a quiet ‘bless their hearts’ and decided not to comment. Especially since she saw Bob getting his phone out, ready to film.

Tater grabbed a spatula, wiggling it under a very crispy latke and turned it over, dropping it into the oil, then flinched backward, screeching.

Alicia bit her lip as the man tried to regain his composure. 

“Honey, are you okay?”

“Fine. I’m fine.”

Bob walked over so he was right behind her. “Guess he didn’t know that latkes were fried, eh?”

She pinched his arm. “Bobby, you know we shouldn’t be blaming our men for not being able to cook. That’s just a result of a bullshit patriarchal society built on toxic masculinity.” 

Bob rolled his eyes at her. It had been an inside joke for years that she’d only fallen for him because he could cook. “You’re going to ask Lardo for deets?”

“I’m asking Lardo for deets, yes. Apparently, Justin has a massive crush on Tater.”

“Fill me in too, okay?”

“Always.”


	7. Day 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitty kept wandering around the house as Jack started to look up all of the movies currently playing. None of it was stuff that he would usually watch, since he tended to like documentaries, but he was sure that he could find something that Bitty would like. After a few minutes of searching, he found it. The perfect movie.
> 
> Quickly, he moved over, showing his parents what movie and sending them the link after a silent debate over who would pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall i have successfully written this entire fic and it feels kind of like an amazing accomplishment  
> also online school sucks balls and i hate studying

“Honey, it’s too early…”

“It’ll be just like checking practice then?”

“Oh, leave me alone, Mr. Bittle.”

Alicia laughed. Bitty and Jack had both gotten up to run, but she was starting to suspect that Jack had dragged Bitty out of bed. Jack was standing at the door, looking at Alicia.

“There’s this loop I do a lot with George, if that’s okay?”

“It’s beautiful. Almost makes getting up this early worth it.” Bitty was still yawning as he opened the door.

Alicia laughed, knowing how deep habits ran. The only reason she ran this early was because it had given her a chance to work out before the day really started. Bitty thought he had escaped it, but he also knew it was the only way.

It turned out that the route was beautiful, even if Bitty yawned constantly for the first mile.

By the time Jack got out of the shower, they were all awake and unsure of what to do. Jack was sitting on the couch next to Bob, reading a book as his father checked Twitter. On the opposite side of the room, Bitty was pacing back and forth, twisting his fingers together. “I do not know what to do.”

“What?”

“It’s Christmas day. I have no idea what to do.”

Jack realized that this was the smallest Christmas that Bitty had ever been to and that he had never seen the fun of a Jewish Christmas experience. Jack looked at his parents, hoping for advice. They just shrugged.

Bitty kept wandering around the house as Jack started to look up all of the movies currently playing. None of it was stuff that he would usually watch, since he tended to like documentaries, but he was sure that he could find something that Bitty would like. After a few minutes of searching, he found it. The perfect movie.

Quickly, he moved over, showing his parents what movie and sending them the link after a silent debate over who would pay.

Eventually it was decided that they would spring the movie on him, especially since he’d moved on to filming a vlog, and they didn’t want to interrupt.

“Hey, Bits. We have tickets for a matinee at four.”

“What?”

Bitty was changing out of his clothes, as they’d gotten utterly covered in flour. He was not expecting his husband to say that they had movie tickets.

“It’s tradition.” Jack spread his hands, as if to say that there was nothing he could have done. “It’s at the tiny artsy movie theater that Lardo took us too.”

“I think you meant the night that y’all dragged me, Ransom, and Holster to watch a random documentary about female painters,” Bitty sighed. “I love you, sweetheart, but you and I have very different tastes in movies.”

A small, coy smile spread across Jack’s face. “I think you’ll like this one. And if you don’t, I’m sure Maman will tell you all about the stars’ lives.”

From the other room, Alicia gasped. “I would never! The crew gossip, however… that is worth everything.”

“I don’t think I’d want to know about the stars, anyway. The press is horrible.”

Jack leaned down to kiss his husband. He loved how considerate Bitty was, especially when it came to press. Overall, they just wanted to live their lives, even if they were famous.

Three hours later, Bitty was buzzing, holding Jack’s hand. The movie had been… emotional, to say the least. Jack had already sent a glowing recommendation to Shitty, who promised to pirate it the very next day.

“That was amazing, sweetheart. Thank you.”

Jack smiled at his husband. His everything. “Sappy enough for you, eh?”

“I need to text Shruti. She would love this.”

“To be honest, I think Jack would be more interested in the history behind it.” Bob was walking in front of both of them, also holding Alicia’s hand. 

“Euh. Yes,” he admitted. “The Crusades isn’t usually what I learn about, but it could be interesting to see if anything like Joe and Nicky’s relationship happened.”

Bob stopped in front of a restaurant, neon lights proclaiming that it served Chinese food.

Bitty looked up at the facade and shuddered. “Why… here?”

Bob and Jack laughed. “It’s tradition!”

Immediately after they were seated, Jack started to talk about the history behind it. “It’s actually an American thing, but Papa spent a lot of time in the US, so now it’s just tradition.”

Jack looked over at Bob, who shrugged. “I did this in Canada, too, but I only started eating Chinese food when I was with the Pens.”

“Since Jews were trying to fit in, they also didn’t always eat kosher, and Chinese restaurants, they were close enough.”

“I guess… there’s no dairy, so you don’t have to worry about milk and meat,” Bitty shrugged. “That make a lot of sense, actually. Maybe I should’ve paid more attention in that history class you dragged me to.”

“I was just trying to get you through your senior year, Bits.”

Bob coughed, wanting Jack to get on with the story. 

“Euh. Even if there was pork, it was usually in something, so there was plausible deniability. And it just kind of became a tradition.”

“Even the movies,” Alicia chimed in. “Nobody was there, because of Christmas, and Jews would take advantage of it. You have no idea how many times Bob used that to see Star Wars.”

Bitty shifted in his seat. “I get the Chinese food and a movie, but why… here?” He gestured at his surroundings. “Sure, it’s cheap, but we don’t have to eat like college students. All of us are rich.”

Alicia laughed. “What’s the point of Christmas if you don’t know that your arteries will hate you later?”

Bitty raised his glass. “Merry Christmas, y’all.”

“Merry Christmas.”


	8. Day 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bob smiled. He knew that he had a solution for at least one of those problems. “Want a celebrity guest?”

Bob stuck his head into the living room, wondering why he heard Bitty’s voice echoing through the house. It wasn’t like there was anyone else there. Alicia had taken the time to go and catch up with a few old friends, mostly Samwell alums, and Jack had gone to a museum.

(Bob always wanted to make fun of his son; Jack was more of an old man than he was.)

“Hey, Bitty! What are you doing?”

Bitty sighed, turning to fiddle with a button on a camera. Bob backed up, knowing that he’d made a major error.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were filming. I can leave the room if you want?”

Bitty waved off Bob’s concerns. “It’s fine. I just- sometimes it’s hard to find the time to make new videos, especially with my book tour, and I’m also having problems figuring out ways to keep people engaged.”

Bob smiled. He knew that he had a solution for at least one of those problems. “Want a celebrity guest?”

Bitty threw his head back and laughed.

Five minutes later, Bob was standing in front of the camera, wearing a perfect white apron and a chef’s hat he’d brought as a joke, just so that he could take pictures with Bitty and put them on Twitter. He was incredibly glad that he’d brought the hat now, as it had an even higher purpose.

“Hi y’all, and welcome to a new vlog, with a special celebrity guest, Bad Bob Zimmermann!”

Bob waved at the camera as he’d been instructed. “Hey, Eric, what are we making today?” he ad libbed.

Bitty stared at him, then back at the camera.

“First of all, Mr. Zimmermann,” Bob stared at the camera, acting shocked that Bitty had taken away his first name privileges, “It’s Bitty. And secondly, today we’re making my famous cinnamon buns!”

Bob stared at the ingredients set out on the counter, noting the large glass jar filled with nuts as Bitty continued his intro.

“Now, y’all know I love to make these, but they take a lot of time and they’re not on my husband’s meal plan. First time I made these for the team, he barely even took a bite! I used to make these most weekends for my family, and this is my own take on a family recipe that I made by adding pecans.”

Bitty went on to list all the ingredients as Bob stared at the camera, occasionally making faces at the things Bitty said. He was honestly surprised that none of this was added in later, but he guessed that by now it was part of Bitty’s brand. 

Bob started to add ingredients into his own bowl, getting all of the dry ingredients mixed together and doing the same for Bitty. The other man walked around the island and pointed the camera at Bob. In a stage whisper, Bitty said, “Y’all, Jack does the exact same thing!”

Bob winked at the camera. “Who do you think he learned it from? I think you tried Alicia’s cooking once, and I know that Jack cooked for you on your anniversary.”

“So, did you cook with Jack as a kid or something? That’s what my Mama did.”

“NHL careers… you don’t always see your family a ton.” Bob laughed. “No, he started to cook with me when he realized he was going to Juniors. I think he wanted to know that he could cook for himself if he needed to.”

Bitty was over by the stove, now, pouring milk from a measuring cup into a small pot. “Just because he can cook, it doesn’t mean that it has much taste,” he added.

“I think being married to you has helped with that.” Bitty blushed, but Bob couldn’t tell if it was due to the compliment he’d paid to his baking skills or because Bob called out his husband. 

“Thanks, honey.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” 

Bitty stared at him. “What did you just say?”

“Sweetheart?” Bob could feel himself shriveling under the force of Bitty’s glare. “I thought it would be funny if I tried to sound southern.”

Bob screwed up his face, exaggerating every word he said. “Hi, honey! Oh, bless your hockey playin’ heart. Y’all…”

“Please, honey. Y’all sounds bad enough when it’s coming from my husband. There are two types of people who are allowed to say y’all, and it’s the gays, and people from the South.”

Bitty took the pan off of the stove and ordered Bob to stand back and say nothing as he started working on the dough, aiming the camera at his hands.

The camera centered back on their faces when Bitty had to show Bob how to knead dough, telling him how to fold the dough over and over, pressing the heel of his hand into the glutinous mass. Bob tried it, then started to flail his hands around. “That is… very sticky.”

He started scraping his hands against each other, but didn’t manage to get any of the dough off. He turned towards Bitty. “How do I get this off?”

“You just have to knead it more. It’ll all join together into a ball.” He gestured at his perfect, round ball of dough, sitting in a bowl. “I can knead, if you want.”

“Thank you.”

The rest of the video went relatively smoothly, Bob and Bitty keeping up some witty banter throughout. Bob managed to make the filling relatively quickly, allowing Bitty a chance to relax and get some other shots.

Once the cinnamon buns were done, Bob and Bitty relaxed, eating the fruits of their labors. 

“As beautiful as these were in the pan… I think they’re even more beautiful like this.” Bob was holding the bun up to the light, examining it from all angles, watching the glaze shimmer in the light.

Bitty laughed. “That’s the best part of baking. Seeing the beauty that you’ve created, and then eating it.”

Bob raised the bun towards Bitty in a toast. “To us.”

“To us.”

They were silent for a few minutes, just enjoying the sweet, nutty taste.

The video got insanely popular.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit we made it! I kept up this update schedule! life is great!!! i hope yall enjoyed this holiday fluff told in vignettes (btw bob and alicia leave then next day with a fuck ton of baked goods)


End file.
